The Blackest Ink
by Timballisto
Summary: Harry supposed Karma had it in for him, what, with him being engaged, enslaved, mutated, spit on, and generally being abused. However, he never really guesed how much Luck loved him as well. HarryHina friend/romanceship !HIATUS!
1. Prologue: Ultimatum

Alright, welcome to 'The Blackest Ink' Redux, a total revamp of my previous story under the same name. The ideas just weren't flowing with my original idea and I was stuck for a few months without any other inspiration, so I decided to redo the whole story. Sorry if you don't like it, but this is mostly an outlet for my creative juices, so...sorry.

* * *

The Council Room of Konoha was legendary in its repute around the world for being one of the most secure places in the entire shinobi nations. The main Council room was rather small, only barely enough for a large, low table, big enough for all of the shinobi and civilian members, but if made up for its size by the sheer amount of security that surrounded the small, secret room. The walls were six feet of chakra steel, inscribed with anti-eavesdropping seals, trap jutsu, fake genjutsu pathways carved into the metal, misleading potential spies. No one but the Hokage knew that exact way to get through the trap infested hallways that lead to this part of the sub-basements of the Hokage Tower. The civilians were knocked out and carried in by ANBU, the ninja members of the group were blindfolded and lead through a back entrance.

One such member, the leader of a premier Konohagakure shinobi clan, coldly watched the delegation from the Outside file into the Council Room. Hiashi sneered at the two freaks, his aristocratic face breaking into a mask of stony contempt.

Filthy Gai-jin. (1)

Hiashi turned away from the two men, surveying the members who were kneeling on the cushioned tatami floor. The Yondaime Hokage was there, watching the two oddly dressed men file in, his face blank but his eyes dancing in amusement. The retired Sandaime sat next to his successor, smoking his ever present tobacco pipe. The Yondaime caught Hiashi's eye and smirked.

Hiashi turned away, a disgruntled look on his face. The Yondaime may have been on his genin team, but it didn't mean Minato, now the Yondaime Hokage, wasn't too high and mighty not to rub it in the 'genius' of the Hyuuga clan that he, the dead last, had become Hokage.

Hiashi scowled as he surveyed the rest of the members, his pale eyes taking quick note of who attended. All of the powerful ninja clan heads of Konoha were there , the Hyuuga were represented by himself and the Uchiha by Uchiha Fugaku and his heir Itachi. Though the boy was barely tall enough to hold his father's hand (not that the Uchiha permitted that nonsense), he had already passed the genin exams and was well on his way to becoming a Chuunin.

On the civilian side of the table, five of the richest merchants and businessman Konoha had to offer sat. Four wore traditional kimonos and haori, while the fifth, a relatively young man, wore a Western style business suit. Hiashi scowled at the offending clothing, his traditionalist sense of style rebelling from the new, and in his opinion, insulting, attire.

Hiashi was brought out of his reverie by the Yondaime softly clearing his throat. "Welcome to Konoha Fudge-domo." Quietly, the Yondaime adjusted his red Hokage hat, subtly readjusting the smoke bombs hidden there in case of emergencies or council meetings turned assassination attempts. "Dumbledore-sama, I believe you have met Sarutobi-san?"

Hiashi struggled not to spit on the ground as he saw the gai-jin who the Yondaime was introducing the Sandaime to. Dumbledore couldn't have been more different, more abnormal, more offensive if he had tried. His long beard, so long it tucked into his belt, quivered as he talked, and Hiashi had to restrain himself from just reaching out an grabbing it, and… Hiashi shook himself. Hyuuga did not lose control. Still, the animated constellation on the robe set his teeth on edge.

"Oh yes." Dumbledore smiled. "Hiruzen-san and I were quite a pair." He chuckled. "By the way, how is Jiraiya? I believe he was the one who got hexed by the whole female population of Gryffindor?"

Sarutobi smiled back at his friend. "Yes, that was Jiraiya. He hasn't changed much."

The man called Fudge quietly cleared his throat, shaking Sarutobi out of his quiet reverie.

"Ah, yes, forgive the ramblings of old men Minister." Dumbledore gestured for the man to speak.

"Yes, anyway," Fudge blustered, his neck red. It seemed to Hiashi that he was relatively new to the job, for him to feel so embarrassed to be under such scrutiny. "We have important news. You-Know-Who is-"

"Voldemort, Mr. Fudge." Dumbledore said pleasantly, ignoring the jump of fright the man gave. "You shouldn't fear the name anymore."

Hiashi gave his reluctant silent nod of approval. Konoha ninja didn't cower in fear because of a name. Now, Iwa ninja…

"Right, him, well, he's dead."

A ripple of disbelief ran through the Council Room, including Hiashi himself. Dead? How?

"What is the meaning of this?" Fugaku asked, his face dark. "You beg for our help, make a treaty, only to have this Voldemort of yours dead by your own hand? Is this some sort of joke?"

"N-no, not at all!" Fudge said, his voice frantic. "We don't even know how he died!"

"Then how do you know he is really dead?" the Yondaime asked in his 'Hokage Voice'. It made you believe he created the ultimate jutsu, not that he was some super powered nut who loved to torture his former teammates with his glorified status.

"His wand." Dumbledore placed the bone white wand on the table. "As you know, wizards cannot do anything without a wand, one of our many failings." He nodded to the ninja across the table. "It is my belief that he wouldn't let go of his wand, unless, of course, he couldn't hold it."

Ignoring the confused looks he was getting, Dumbledore tucked the wand into his sleeve. "I believe Voldemort"-he ignored Fudge's wince-"has been thrown from his body and is now underground, hiding as a shade."

Dumbeldore held the Yondaime's eyes, the twinkle muted, ignoring the sputtering of the Minister. "I don't believe Voldemort is dead." Then he brightened. "But, for now at least, we can enjoy a period of peace after all the warefare."

"You still haven't explained how Voldemort died." Fugaku's voice was calm again. Apparently, the infamous Uchiha temper could be controlled.

"That is the mystery." Dumbledore said, the twinkle in his eyes back in force. "A one year old defeated him."

"Pardon?" Hiashi's face was stone.

"Harry James Potter, son of Evans Lily and Potter James, destroyed Lord Voldemort with nothing to show for it but a scar on his forehead. He survived the killing curse, even when greater wizards, including his parents, had died before the Dark Lord."

The Council took a few seconds to digest this, Hiashi's working fastest of all. The Yondaime had taken him aside after the first meeting with the Westerners to discuss this very possiblity.

**Flashback...**

_"Hiashi-kun." Hiashi growled as he turned around to face his old teammate. The Yondaime Hokage's blonde hair fell into his cerulean blue eyes, a genetic rarety, a large grin playing across his face._

_"Yes, Hokage-sama?" Hiashi said, reigning in his fraying temper._

_The Hokage's grin suddenly fell, and his eyes became as steel. "I don't trush these Wizards, Hiashi."_

_Hiashi nodded, his face grim as well._

_"They come to us for help now, but what of later, if they wish to disregard our treaty? We have nothing to offer them once this war is over, they have our natural resources in abundance and for cheaper costs, they have weapons that paralell our own and have powers that disregard the need for any of our chakra inventions." The Yondaime had begun to pace, his cloak swirling around him as he stalked the empty council room. "We need leverege."_

_Hiashi nodded. They needed a powerful political leader that would forstall any attempt against the village hidden in the leaves. At least until the information on how to access their country was erased._

_"By any means necesary, Hiashi, that's an order." the Yondaime met Hiashi's eyes fully, his blue clashing against Hiashi's pale Hyuuga eyes. "If I think you have held back, by any means, I will kill you and excecute your clan as traitors against Konoha, is that clear?"_

_Hiashi nodded, his face flat and as blank as slate._

**...END**

"Is this a threat?" Hiashi asked, keeping his voice light. "Have you trained this boy to destroy your enemies?" He highly doubted it, these wizard gai-jin were pathetically weak and they seemed ill-used to the double-cross tactics and personal agenda's of the shinobi world.

"No, n-no of course not!" Fudge exclaimed.

"How would we know? Not until it was too late." Hiashi ignored the looks the Yondaime was giving him; he would pay for this later. "If the boy is so powerful now, what about in five years? Ten? Twenty? What is to stop you from using him to destroy Konoha? Nothing."

Hiashi stood, towering over the small, portly minister.

"I propose an arranged marriage. My eldest daughter Hinata is one year old, the same age as Potter-san." Hiashi fixed the quivering Fudge with his best Hyuuga glare. "This way, Konoha can be sure of the Ministry of Magic's commitment to the Konoha-England treaty." Mentally, he congratulated himself. The arranged marriage made it look like he cared enough to marry him to his daughter (Pfft, as if a gai-jin would have any political power in his clan) to the boy, while still leaving him free to make descicions.

Fudge gave Dumbledore a beseeching look.

"Well, this is unprecedented." Dumbledore said seriously. "In Britain, arranged marriages are…uncommon." Dumbledore's long tapered fingers tapped gently on the wooden council table. "Would the bride live with him?"

Hiashi shook his head, his pale eyes drilling into the old man. He had trapped the old man into a corner, all he could do was accept or call his bluff, and seeing as looking 'Underneath the Underneath' was not a phrase wizards were familiar with, Hiashi was pretty sure he was safe.

Dumbledore sighed. They were stuck. They could refuse and offend a great ally, potentially starting another war, or they could agree and seal young Harry's future. Really, it wasn't a choice.

"We accept."

* * *

A/N: Many of my readers have been worried that I'd overpower Harry and make him some sort of ninja genius. I assure you, that will not happen. Harry will not be attending the Acadamy, and if he does, it's only to pick Hinata up and escort her home. If anything, Harry's barely going to know anything about chakra, perhaps only some basic meditation exercises used to hone chakra and magic and stealth techniques. He won't be a pushover, but he won't exactly be a threat to any ninja over a low Chuunin either.

Japanese Glossary

_(1) Gai-jin: the japanese word for foreigner_

_You'll notice that Hiashi uses this word as an insult. I've painted the Hyuuga as a highly traditional clan, resentful of any new ideas or anamalies that affect the status quo. That's basically why Harry won't be particularly well liked by the Hyuuga main branch members, he represents a growing faction of Westerners who are changing the their world. I've also used this to create some political imbalances that can add to the Hyuuga clan disharmony. Think of it as Purebloods against Muggleborns, except it's "Natives" vs. "Invaders"._


	2. Chapter 2: Abduction

The manicured lawns of Number Four Privet Drive blended in with its suburban fellows, it's neatly clipped gardens and blooming rose bushes prized by the owner, one Petunia Dursely. No matter how many times she told you that _she_ was the one that did all the pruning, weeding, watering, and fertilizing, everyone knew it was the work of her subdued and troubled nephew.

Despite the rumors that he was unstable, many of the people of Privet Drive hired him for yard work, which he accomplished quickly, efficiently, and without fuss. Now the gardens all along the drive were blooming, thanks to the tender attentions of one Harry Potter, the eleven year old handyman of the street.

But, no matter how much money Harry brought in to help pay for his upkeep, he knew it would never be enough for Uncle Vernon.

"Boy!" Vernon bellowed, pounding on the small door to his cupboard, jarring Harry awake and sending a few spiders flying. "Boy!"

"Yes Uncle?" Harry answered, already pulling on his glasses. The only reason Vernon ever addressed him was because he had a gardening job.

"Mr. Kennith needs his lawn re-sod, he's paying good money for that job, so I expect every cent of it when you get back!" Vernon commanded, his bristling mustache bobbing with each word he spit at his hated nephew.

"Yes sir." Harry murmured, keeping his eyes to the ground.

"Be lucky that someone will hire a freak like you boy, now get breakfast ready for Dudley then get out."

Harry nodded before quietly slipping into the kitchen and slipping a few pieces of bacon onto a burning skillet.

Aunt Petunia walked stiffly into the kitchen, crinkling her nose in disgust as she saw her dark haired nephew in _her_ kitchen. Deciding to ignore him, she strode into the dining room, her head bobbing like a mother hen as she clucked over the whale Harry called a cousin. It was only after three packages of bacon that Harry was allowed outside.

The various patrons of Privet Drive made no greetings to Harry as he walked along in the cool dawn of the summer morning. To them he was just part of the landscape, just another brick in the wall.

As Harry reached the end of the drive, the last house broke from the monotony of green grass and garden, showing lack of greenery and plain black dirt. The entire front yard was bare of grass and huge pallets of sod were lined up on the driveway. A large knife was stuck in the top of one, pinning a note to the piles of grass.

_Re-sod the yard; use the knife to cut them into smaller pieces to fit better. You will be paid by the amount of the yard completed when I return in an hour._

Harry sighed. His name wasn't even mentioned on the note.

-

It was three o'clock and Privet Drive was unnaturally silent, Harry noticed as he made his way back from his job. The nosy neighbors that would usually be conversing over the white picket fences were strangely absent, the windows open but unoccupied by the usual faces of the neighborhood gossips.

Harry felt an uncomfortable prickle between his shoulder blades, one he associated with his 'Dudley Senses'. Someone was watching him, and probably not for something that was good for his health.

"Who's there?" Harry asked quietly, clutching the dirty sod knife (the one he was going to clean and return) in his trembling hands. "I know you're there."

There was a shift in the cast shadow near one of the houses and Harry whirled to face that direction. "I-I know you're there, come out and face me!"

There was another shift, this one was to Harry's right. "C-come out!"

Behind him, he heard, more than felt, the soft tread of a footstep. Instinctively, Harry ducked, and something whistled over his head. Overbalanced, Harry fell onto his back, and looked up into the face of a stranger.

"W-what do you want?" Harry, terrified, asked. 'He must be a madman.' Harry thought. 'No one goes around dressed like that!'

Indeed, the man (well, Harry assumed it was a man) was strangely dressed. Black, skin tight clothing was covered by slate grey forearm guards, chest armor, and shin guards. A porcelain white mask, carved into the likeness of a rabbit, accented by red paint (if he had seen it in any other position, he probably would have thought it was cute) covered the man's face.

The man made no response and merely advanced, causing Harry to scoot backwards in a frantic scramble. "P-please! I haven't done anything wrong!"

And then the man flickered out of sight. Harry almost let out a sigh of relief…then something pricked his neck. Harry, surprised, whipped around to see the masked man tuck a needle away.

"Wha-"Harry stopped in mid sentence, swaying. Then his vision twisted, and took him away into unconsciousness.

-

Harry twisted slightly on his cot in the cupboard under the stairs, mumbling softly into his pillow, the safe darkness of his cupboard complete and absolute. Harry dozed in that place between waking and sleeping, perfectly content to keep sleeping.

Then a hard pounding woke him up and he jumped awake, mumbling incoherently, groped for his glasses on the cardboard box that served as a nightstand. His fingers met air, and Harry cursed slightly, forcing his eyes open to take in the blurry sights.

Instead of the usual darkness of the cupboard under the stairs, Harry found himself in a light filled, white room, blurry crème mixing in with soft browns.

"Where am I?" Harry asked, frowning and trying to rack his brain for an answer. He remembered the sod…walking home…the man! Yes, the masked man must have brought him here after being drugged. Whatever the man wanted him for, he had certainly rendered Harry useless, he couldn't see anything.

"Hello!" Harry called from the relative safety of the bed he was in. He didn't want to stumble away from the only thing he could hold on to. There was the sound of a door sliding open, and a blurry form covered in white stepped into the room.

"Hello?" Harry asked hesitantly, squinting in an attempt to see the person who had entered.

"Here" The voice was rough and arrogant, with a hint of an accent, and Harry felt his hackles rise even as his glasses were shoved into his hands.

Harry shoved the glasses onto his nose, only to catch the retreating back of a boy about a year older than him, walking away, dressed in a white kimono-like robe. "Wait!" Harry called, scrambling to his feet.

"What." The boys tone was cold, so cold it made Harry flinch a little.

"W-why am I here?"

The boy turned a, looking over his shoulder, his face betraying his surprise. "You really don't know, Gai-jin?"

Harry's brow furrowed, his scar stretching over his pale forehead. "No."

"You are here, to marry Hinata-sama."


	3. Chapter 3: Reincarnation

Harry stared at the boy as if he had grown two heads. "M-marry?"

The boy nodded curtly, before continuing out the door and shutting it behind him. Harry was sure he heard the accompanying sound of a latch being slid into place

Harry stared uncomprehendingly at the white door, his eyes unfocused in shock. "W-wait!" Harry cried, launching himself at the door, pounding on it with his fists. "Come back!"

The other side of the door remained silent.

Harry slid down the wooden door until he landed with a thump and his knees, his forehead against the door. Unbidden, tears came to his eyes and dribbled down his cheeks until he furiously rubbed them away, sniffling.

"I want to go home." Harry whispered to himself, missing even the nasty temper of his unappeasable uncle, heck, even the stupidity and brutality of his cousin would be welcome.

The door slid open, fast, and at a rate that sent Harry scrambling backwards. Harry stared up at the towering, six and a half foot giant in awe and fear, gulping as the man fixed his chilly, pale eyed gaze upon him.

'Those eyes…' Harry thought, transfixed by the pale white of the abnormal mans eyes. 'The boy from before…' Yes, Harry was sure his previous visitor had possessed those eyes.

"W-why am I here?" Harry stuttered out, his nerves stretched tight in case the goliath decided to crush him like a bug. "Why did the boy from before say I was going to marry someone? Where am I? Who are you?"

"You will be silent in the presence of your betters." The man hissed, glaring down at Harry's frightened face.

"Yes sir." Harry mumbled, flinching and averting his eyes from the icy face of this giant.

"Now, follow me." Without another word, the man turned on his heel and marched out of the room. Only hesitating for a second, Harry followed the man, keeping close on his heels in the twisting white halls of Harry's prison. There was no decoration, no landmarks, nothing to help the man who seemed to navigate the maze with ease.

The man suddenly stopped, so suddenly, that Harry almost ran into him. The man opened the door, and hot steam frothed out. "Go through this door, there will be a bath ready for you, and proper clothing." The man glared at the dirt covered, ragged shirt and pants Harry was currently wearing, causing Harry's face to flush with shame. "Leave those clothes in the room."

"Yes sir." Harry murmured, before scuttling into the bathroom, scuffing his dirty bare feet on the polished wooden floors.

"Be quick about it." The man ordered, before slamming the door shut.

Harry sighed in relief. That man…Harry shivered. He reminded Harry of a cross between Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, intense dislike for dirt coupled with Vernon's propensity for physical violence. Harry swore the whole time he was walking behind the man; the stranger had been itching to kill him.

Harry shivered again as banished those morbid thoughts from his mind, and looked around the simple bathroom. The room was large, larger than even Aunt Petunia's prized bathroom, with a Jacuzzi tub and the works. The walls, floors and ceilings were made from a dark wood, a copper bath of steaming water ready by the side of the room. A porcelain toilet and sink were off to the side. A folded towel and clothing hung on a hook protruding from the wall.

Slightly apprehensive, but not wanting to disobey the pale eyed man's orders, Harry stripped and settled into the tub, scrubbing off dirt and mud from his gardening yesterday. Harry stopped. Was it yesterday, or two days ago? Harry had no clue where he was, why he was here, or why the boy had mentioned marriage, or even who this mysterious Hinata-sama was.

'Maybe it's all just a big misunderstanding…' Harry thought, staring into the bathwater. 'Maybe they thought I was someone else, an eleven year old can't marry!'

A pounding on the sliding door jerked Harry from his thoughts. "Are you done yet?" It was the man from before, his voice filled with annoyance and anger.

"Coming!" Harry called back, scrambling out of the tub and furiously scrubbing himself pink with the towel. Once he deemed himself dry enough, though his hair was as untamable as ever, Harry unfolded his clothes, unearthing a pair of white boxers, crème trousers, and a light brown shirt that looked suspiciously like a t-shirt.

'What is it with these people and boring colors?' Harry grumbled internally as he pulled the clothes on. He couldn't exactly complain. The closest thing he had to color was a dull, bluish shirt that had been several sizes too big for him. Everything else had been gray.

Harry quickly slid the door open and closed it behind him, hoping the man wouldn't find fault with his appearance.

"Your hair is a mess." The man sneered. Harry sighed, too much to hope for.

"There was no comb sir." Harry said, gathering the courage to look the man in the eyes.

"Hmph." The man sniffed, before turning and striding down the hallway, gesturing for Harry to follow.

"Sir, will I get my clothes back?"

"No, they will be burned."

"But, sir-," Harry protested. When the Dursely's saw his new clothes, they would flip. They would accuse him of stealing and have him arrested.

"_Enough!"_ The man turned and hissed, his pale eyes flashing. "They will be burned, and you will_ be silent!"_

Harry shrunk away from the man, closing his eyes tight, bracing for the blow he fully expected to follow. Nothing came, and after a moment, Harry opened one eye cautiously, only to see the man walking away.

Cautiously, Harry followed, eyeing the man as if he would turn and deck him any second. The pale-eyed man ignored him and continued to stride down pristine white hallways, these, however, were not as empty as the ones they had traveled to get to the bathroom.

Men and women, dressed as Harry's own guide was, in a white robe tied closed with a sash, strode down the hallways, some wearing headbands of white cloth, others wearing strips of metal with some sort of symbol etched into it. Still others wore nothing, exposing pale foreheads, much like the man guiding him. All of them had the same pale eyes.

And they were all staring at him.

Harry shrank back from the stares and quickened his pace, his face burning from the open scrutiny.

"Keep up." Harry jumped and hurried after the man, trying to ignore the curious stares of the people in the hallway.

Soon, however, the crowds thinned out and Harry was again alone with his guide. Their footsteps echoed along the empty hallways, both of their bare feet treading quietly on the wooden floor.

"You will be meeting with Hiash-sama."

"Wha-" Harry said, startled at the suddenness of the man's voice in the silence of the hallway.

"Listen closely." The mans voice was curt, but there was a note of…fear? In his voice. "You will be meeting with Hiashi-sama. Do not speak unless spoken to, and when you do, address him as Hiashi-sama, understand?"

Harry nodded, confused.

"It is better if you do not speak, Hiashi-sama is a proud man and he does not take kindly to interruption. If he dismisses you, you leave, end of discussion."

"But, why does he want me?" Harry asked, hurrying to match the giant mans huge strides. "I-I'm nothing!"

"Do not stutter." The man commanded, sneering at Harry's earnest expression. "As to your value, or why you," he nearly spit the word. "Would marry Hiashi's daughter, I do not know."

"That's the second time someone has mentioned me marrying someone!" Harry exclaimed, pushing his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose. "I'm only eleven."

"It does not matter." The man took a left. "Whatever Hiashi-sama orders, you will do."

"And if I don't?" Harry asked petulantly.

The man didn't answer, but Harry had the sneaking suspicion he was smiling, a smile that couldn't be good for Harry in the long run.

They stopped at a set of large double doors, thick and made of wood. The man quietly knocked on the door.

"Hiashi-sama, I have brought the Gai-jin as you instructed."

"Send him in."

The large doors slid back, and Harry entered a large, mostly bare room, the only decoration being long painted scrolls that illustrated aqua green mountains and charging horses. Against the far wall, a pale man sat, carefully writing on a scroll in his lap. His eyes, pale, just like the rest of the people in this strange labyrinth of hallways. His robe was a shimmering white, made of an iridescent material instead of the common cotton that seemed prevalent among this strange people.

"Welcome to the Hyuuga, Potter-san." Hiashi said, not looking up from his papers.

"Uh, thank you sir." Harry said, trying hard to control his stuttering. Hiashi was a very intimidating man, and it looked like he wasn't even trying.

"Are you eleven, Potter-san?" Hiashi asked, still not looking up.

"Uh, ten sir, my birthday is in a few days, so I, uh r-round up."

Hiashi nodded. "Good." He continued to write, ignoring a fidgeting Harry. A few minutes passed, and as soon as Harry was about to open his mouth to ask Hiashi what on earth he was doing here, the man spoke.

"I'm sure you're wondering what you're doing here." Hiashi said, his voice light. "You have been kidnapped from the home that abused you, after all."

Harry's blood ran cold. How did he know? "I think you're misinformed sir-"

"I'm not misinformed, Potter-san. Perhaps you weren't beaten an inch from your life, but you were malnourished and neglected, not good treatment for the only link keeping Konohagakure from invading Wizarding Britain."

Harry blinked. Wizarding…Britain? Konohagakure?

"I'm not sure I understand, sir."

"That is no concern of yours, Potter-san. Very soon, however, it will not matter." Hiashi dipped his brush back into his inkwell before going back to his writing. "You have been betrothed to my daughter since you were one year old, it does not matter if you knew of it or not, you will marry her, you have no choice."

Harry stared at the man, horror dawning in his eyes. This wasn't a mistake, they had been looking for him, and they had planned all of it. They probably had a cock and bull story to feed the neighbors and the Dursleys, none of them cared enough to find out if it was true.

"We made sure your death looked like an accident." Hiashi said, finally looking up to meet Harry's eyes, confirming Harry's thoughts.

"No one knows I'm alive." Harry whispered, staring sightlessly at the floor.

"No." Hiashi said, blowing gently on his scroll. "No one knows Harry Potter is alive." Hiashi smiled cruelly, and Harry knew he would find no love in his father-in-law. He found as much pleasure, if not more, in his misery than Uncle Vernon. "Very soon, even the name Harry Potter will be wiped out forever. You will become Hyuuga Ieyasu, the foreign betrothed to my eldest, Hinata."

"But you are gai-jin." Hiashi said, his face twisting from calm into a sneer. "You are a foreigner. If I had a choice, you would be dead, and a threat to my clan would be eliminated. It is only by threat of execution that I marry you to my daughter. You are not wanted here, never forget that. Dismissed."

Harry silently got to his feet, his bangs shadowing his green eyes, full of hate.

'I hate you.' Harry thought, as he struggled not to strike the man in front of him. 'I will escape, and nothing you can say will stop me.' With effort, Harry turned on his heel and strode out of the room, his head held high, even as he was hustled down the hallway by his guide.

Hiashi smirked at the suppressed rage in Harry's face. 'Perhaps he thought he was hiding his emotions from me.' Hiashi nearly laughed at the boy's naivety. 'There is no escape from the Hyuuga all seeing eye.'

Still smirking, Hiashi stamped the scroll he'd been working on with his personal seal, ordering the sealing of one Harry Potter, chaining him to the Hyuuga clan forever.


	4. Chapter 4: Coercion

Before I begin this chapter, I would like you all to know that I have very recently been hit upside the head by one of my readers, Murg, who flatly told me I was being an idiot and under powering the determination of an enslaved Harry Potter.

After some consideration, I have realized that he is right. Though Harry won't be crazy powerful in this fic (I'm thinking he'll always have more spiritual power than physical power, merely because he is a wizard as well), he will try to train in ninja techniques in secret. Currently, his life's goal is to escape the Hyuuga, and since they haven't stamped the Caged Bird seal on him yet, he is rarin' to get out of the Hyuuga complex.

Thank you **Murg**, I will try my very best to include your statements in my story. In fact, **I'm dedicating this entire chapter to you,** I hope you like it, and if not, please tell me and I'll fix it.

Some people have asked about why I would add the 'Ieyasu Hyuuga' bit. Mostly, that was a paper trail for any Boy-Who-Lived searches that the wizarding world might conduct. Some people would also point out that Harry was kidnapped, why doesn't Dumbledore stop it? Technically, before the law, Dumbeldore practically sold him into marital slavery. By law, Harry belongs to the Hyuuga, he has no power to make Hiashi or Harry do anything.

Onward!

* * *

Harry sat stonily in his bed, something these people called a futon, and stared at the far wall, his eyes unfocused.

He hated this place.

In the few short days that he had been here, the Hyuuga had turned him against them so thoroughly; he doubted he could ever see them as anything but wardens to this pristine prison.

Especially Neji. Harry gritted his teeth at the wave of anger and humiliation that threatened to wash over him. Neji had treated him like dirt, and had easily disabled him without even trying. The feeling of helplessness that had plagued him since the incident still burned in his throat.

FLASHBACK…

_Harry followed the long haired boy, gazing at him curiously. He had been Harry's first human contact in this place, and hadn't seemed overtly arrogant. He had introduced himself stiffly to Harry as Neji, and had beckoned Harry follow him down the twisting hallways, hallways Harry had begun to recognize himself._

"_Neji, where are we going?" Harry asked, deciding to abandon his pathetic pretense, a surefire defense mechanism against Uncle Vernon._

"_The courtyard." Neji's reply was short and aggressive and the walk shortly descended to an uncomfortable silence. _

_After a few minutes of walking, Neji slid open a wooden door, revealing, for the first time, true sunlight. The packed dirt courtyard was awash with it, sunshine and warmth playing across the ground like gold coins. The courtyard was surrounded on three sides by the main building of the Hyuuga house, the third was open to a large garden, koi fish splashing in pools bridged by red ornamental bridges and rock gardens arranged in complicated patterns. A group of carefully tended trees brushed up against as large white stone wall that Harry supposed surrounded the entire complex, a large wooden gate set in the stone and guarded by two tall Hyuuga, one male, the other female. Other Hyuuga bustled around the edges of the courtyard, avoiding the center and continuing onto their business._

_To Harry's horror, Neji seemed to ignore the general path of the people and walked straight into the center of the courtyard._

"_Neji!" Harry hissed, looking furtively around at the people who were giving them a wide birth. "I don't think we're supposed to stand there."_

"_They aren't." Neji clarified, turning to face Harry. "But we are."_

_Neji's cold eyes bored into Harry's own, causing him to gulp in fear. "I don't trust you."_

_Harry blinked. "O...kay?"_

_Neji closed his eyes, his face relaxing into a medative pose. "I think you were a mistake of fate." Neji's eyes snapped open and glared at Harry. "Fate works about you, changing and manipulating the people around you, I may hate the Main Branch," Neji's face became harder. "but I do my duty. I think you are fated to start the downfall of this clan."_

_"I haven't done anything!" Harry shouted, starting to get angry. "I haven't even had a conversation with anyone in this family, if you can call it that!" Neji stiffened._

_"What do you mean?" His tone was closed and gaurded._

_"Some in-laws you are!" Harry shouted, his voice ringing around the empty courtyard. "Always belittling me, calling me stupid, branding each other like animals-"_

_Neji's face closed with cold determinations as he rushed Harry, throwing a jab at his shoulder. Harry twisted away, Neji only barely brushing his skin. His shoulder automatically drooped, the touch of the Hyuuga relaxing the muscle beyond use. "What are you doing!?"_

_Neji didn't answer, he merely smashed his heel into Harry's abdomen. _

_Spittle flying from his mouth, Harry flew back, landing on his back and rolling a few feet. Wearily getting on his feet, Harry looked around for help, only to find the courtyard deserted._

_Harry opened his mouth to apologize for whatever he had done, but was interrupted by a palm strike to the gut. With a cry of pain, Harry sank down to one knee, gritting his teeth as he began to cough, red staining the inside of his teeth and the ground in front of him._

"_Why, why are you doing this?" Harry choked out between his shaky gasps of air that turned into a yelp of pain as Neji casually kicked his ribs, sending him onto his back._

_Neji cruelly yanked on Harry's black hair, hauling his ear close to his mouth. "You are fated to marry Hinata-sama, and you are fated to become a Hyuuga." Harry could feel the sneer in his voice. "You say we are branded like cattle, animals to serve the Main Branch family, and you're right, unfortunatly, you'll be in the same boat soon enough.__"_

_Harry snorted. "Why would I want to be one of you? And what mark?"_

_Neji, arrogance in his voice, grabbed Harry's throat, hoisting him up to eye level. "A seal, fool, a seal that makes you a virtual slave of the Main house, of Hiashi, and of your new wife and sister-in-law, that is your fate, a fate you share with over three fourths of the Hyuuga."_

_Harry jerked back as if burned, ignoring the hand clenched tight around his windpipe as best as he could. _

"_I will never." Harry spit, putting as much venom as he could in the words. "I will escape, or die trying." Harry was like a wounded, cornered animal, his face feral. With a snarl, he surged forward and slammed his head into Neji's, forgetting, for a moment the metal plate attached to his opponent's headgear._

_Neji dropped the unconscious Harry in disdain, kicking the figure once before signaling two other Branch members to tow Harry back to his room/cell. _

_Neji turned his back on his former adversary, striding away to his quarters to pack for his team's mission, his mind slightly worried by the venom and pure animal desperation he had showed_

…_END_

Rage burned in Harry's body at the mere thought of the arrogant boy. Harry hadn't seen him since then, which was probably good for his own health, seeing as the last time he had attacked Neji, he knocked himself out.

Shaking the dark thoughts from his mind, Harry's mind perused the week he had been here, stopping here or there at a particularly important event. Most of the early week had composed of days spent in his small, if comfortable, room. Or cell, if you looked at it that way. Sometimes he had been let out for small tours in the huge mansion, other times, a guard would merely let him stretch his legs in the hallway outside his room. However, since Neji's little talk with him, he had been moved to bigger accommodations, on with the basic niceties of comfort, such as a bed, a sink, a toilet. With this leisure, Harry got larger spaces of time outside of his room, almost being able to roam freely around the house.

Then there had been the one time he had seen his betrothed, a concept he was barely coming to terms with.

FLASHBACK…

_Harry sighed as he slumped against the courtyard wall, basking in the sunshine. Only two days ago, Neji had beaten him into the dirt barely twelve feet from his current position; the notion didn't disturb him as it usually would, however. He was outside for his own pleasure of the first time (even thought his was flanked by two distant Hyuuga guards) and he wasn't going to waste a single second of it._

_Across the courtyard, an anomaly entered the serene beehive like aura of the complex courtyard. The persons arrival sent tremors down the metaphorical web until even Harry, ever oblivious, had to notice where the Main house Hyuuga were looking with such disdain, while the Branch house with admiration._

_It was a small, thin, slender girl, her hair, so dark it looked blue, with white eyes, smiling gently and conversing with one of the gate guards. Her eyes were crinkled into a smile and her tinkling laugh trickled over the low murmur of the people who had begun to move on._

_Harry turned to one of his guards, being sure it was a Branch member, and curiously tilted his head._

"_Who is that?" Harry asked, even as he turned back to stare at the girl. A white overcoat with the Hyuuga crest was stitched onto the shoulder and a pair of sandals and pants much like his own was her uniform, a plated headband with the same little leaf symbol, as all of the people with them had, was slung around her neck._

"_That is Hinata-sama." The guard said, his eyes shining with respect as he watched the girl interact freely with the guards. "She is your betrothed, Gai-jin."_

_Harry dumbly nodded, watching Hinata as she walked across the courtyard, puzzled as her smile was replaced by a timid expression of fear and anxiety, her forefingers began to nervously fidget, pressing them together as she approached the entrance to the Main family wings._

"_Why did she…" Harry waved his arm in the general direction of the guards. "Then get all nervous?"_

"_Her family does not think highly of Hinata-sama." The guard said darkly, Harry nodded, but kept the guards reaction tucked away for later analizing._

…_END_

Harry sighed as he stared at his ceiling, moonbeams playing across his face through his new window. Then he sat bold upright. The window!

Carefully, Harry eased over to the window and slowly undid the latch, sliding the window open to the outside. He recognized the place even in near total darkness. His window opened, and it opened onto the courtyard.

Harry smiled and he carefully closed and locked his window, his spirits picking up as he began to furiously plan for his escape.

* * *

The moon was full and yellow as it looked down on the courtyard of the Hyuuga complex, its mellow shine coloring liquid drops of rain as they pattered down softly and gently. Water dripped off of the tiled roofs of the white house's that sheltered the sleeping clan, water that covered the soft sounds of running.

A figure quickly darted from tree to tree, making sure to tread carefully as to not leave his tracks in the mud. A pair of green eyes, darted left and right, making sure that the guards, guards he knew were too arrogant to think anyone would dare sneak into the Hyuuga Clan, had stayed in their places.

In the far back of the Hyuuga gardens, there was a tree that grew over the edge of the complex wall, a strong oak tree that Harry had tested and could hold his weight.

Slowly, Harry peered around the trunk of his tree again, making sure the guards were looking the other way before easing away from his hiding place and making his way further into the shadow of the forest, finding his way to the base of his escape route.

Taking a deep breath, Harry hoisted himself up the tree, praying that the Hyuuga wouldn't hear the unnatural shifting of leaves from this part of the garden. Shimmying along the thick branch that stretched over the thick wall, Harry took a deep breath of clean air, steadying his nerves. Wiping sweaty palms on his clothes (which he regretted, because his hands were now covered with the wood ash he used to darken his clothes) Harry attempted to move farther along the branch, only to stop when he heard the branch crack a little.

Eyes wide, Harry attempted to move back, only for the tree branch to make the same sound of protest. Looking down, Harry saw that the branch was only a about six feet above the top of the wall, if he could drop onto it, then hop to the ground, he would be able to get out of this prison.

Carefully, Harry eased himself of the branch until he was only handing by his hands, his feet dangling inches from the foot wide wall of the Hyuuga clan. Taking a deep breath, he dropped.

Then all hell broke loose.

As soon as Harry's feet touched the top of the wall, black markings spread from his bare feet, and a loud, obnoxious alarm began to blare from inside the complex.

Panicked, Harry jumped off of the top of the wall into the tall grass. Quickly, Harry assessed his position, his eyes narrowed through the goggles he had stolen. This section of the wall was nestled up against the outskirts of a forest, shelter.

Hurriedly, Harry sprinted into the woods, ducking branches and jumping over fallen trees. Far behind he could hear the distant sounds of pursuit, noise that was gaining fast.

Desperate, Harry frantically looked around for shelter, his eyes flicking from place to place, dismissing them all because of obviousness and size. Finally, with the noise about only a hundred yards off and closing, Harry scampered up a tree, hoisting himself up and wedging himself into one of the forks. Snapping a bough and holding it in front of him the leaves shielding his body, Harry held his breath in anxiety, training his eyes onto the figure that had just walked into the clearing…

Neji focused his Byakugan eyes as he walked into the center of the clearing, maintaining the façade that suggested that he didn't know exactly where the Gai-jin was.

Neji almost snorted. No one could hide from a Hyuuga.

Neji continued on through the clearing, and then doubled back until he had a clear view of the Gai-jin. Neji's eyes narrowed as the black haired boy got rid of his covered and shimmied down the tree.

'He didn't even bother checking for a trailing shinobi.' Neji thought, disgusted at the other boy's lack of basic field knowledge, even if he was a civilian. 'Even Acadamy students know better than that.'

Neji purposefully snapped a twig as he stepped back into the clearing, alerting the Gai-jin to his obvious presence. Smiling at the desperation on the Gai-jins face, Neji stepped forward, causing the boy to scramble backwards.

"Halt." Neji said, his tones as frigid and cold as his eyes.

Harry felt his hackles rise and he snarled back at Neji, causing the older boy to smirk.

"I suppose it is too much to ask for you to behave like a civilized human." Neji baited, and he was rewarded with another snarl.

"Like you would know!" Harry barked back, his eyes hateful behind his goggles. "They keep you caged like a dog, and they expect to do the same to me!"

Inhuman bloodlust burned in the pit of Neji's stomach and, in a burst of speed, he was behind Harry, delivering a punishing kidney strike that sent him flying face first into the nearby tree. Neji's sensitive ears heard the smash of the goggles lens as it impacted the tree, shattering it.

Groaning, Harry peeled himself off of the tree, almost falling to his knees at the pain that flared through his twitching and contracting back muscle. The goggles had broken on the left eye, causing blood to drip slowly from the shards to pool in the unbroken frame of the eyeware.

"Figures." Harry baited, his breath coming out in short gasps, the movement of his mouth sending drops of blood spattering onto the ground. "You couldn't face me like a man, you had to stab me in the back."

Neji stood there, staring at Harry, silently shaking in rage. His arms trembled as he attempted to stop himself from delivering a fatal blow.

"What?" Harry said mockingly, sending Neji a measured look. "Scared?"

Like a dam, the anger burst forth, flowing into Neji's arm and guiding it to the fatal path that sent his palm into Harry's chest.

Harry froze as the chakra speared into his heart, and for one frozen moment, he saw Neji. The older boy's face was frozen in a picture of rage, anguish, fear, and shame. Then Harry smiled, blood flowing down his chin, dripping onto the forest floor, and Neji knew.

Harry was never going to submit to the Hyuuga. Neji had played right into his trap. He had meant it when he said he would escape, or die trying.

Neji growled at the motionless body of Harry before sending another jerk of chakra to Harry's heart, attempting to kick start the organ into life. For one horrifying moment, Neji thought he had failed and he would have to explain to Hiashi why his groom was dead (which would probably be the last thing Neji ever did) then Harry jerked into life, even though his breathing was gasping and shallow.

"If I have to deal with this curse," Neji said, hoisting Harry onto his shoulder. "So do you."

* * *

So, what do you think?

I've taken Murg's suggestion to heart and am going to have a much angrier, moodier, more powerful Harry Potter, much like he was when he was fifteen.

Toodles.


	5. Chapter 5: Rehabilitation

We'll finally get some HarryHina interaction in this chapter, I hope you enjoy. Also, some slight angst.

A/N: All of the questions about this chapter can be answered at the end. Thank you to all readers who told me about some of the logical gaps in my story, which I hope I have rectified.

_To Murg,_

Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews, they really help me improve these stories. I just wish you wouldn't be anonymous, so I could formally request you to beta this.

_To CharlesFilth,_

Thank you for pointing out that mistake, that was actually kind of embarrasing.

* * *

Hinata fidgeted nervously as she waited outside of her father's study, poking her fingers together and avoiding the sympathetic glances that the Branch member guards were giving her. Taking deep breaths, Hinata attempted to rein in her anxiety, something that was mounting the more time it took Father to admit her to his private sanctum.

At last, a quiet "Come in" allowed her to open the wood and paper door, quietly sliding it closed behind her.

"F-father." Hinata said softly, kneeling subserviently before her father, her hands folded delicately in her lap. "You c-called me?" Inwardly, Hinata cringed. Father hated it when she stuttered…

"Hinata," Hiashi's voice echoed harshly around the room from Hiashi's position on his raised dais. "You know why you have been called here…correct?"

Hinata nodded slowly, keeping her eyes cast downward, her bangs shadowing her face. "Yes F-father." Why else would she be called into his inner study?

"Then you are aware of your betrothed's recent escape attempt?" Again Hinata nodded. The whole clan was buzzing about the near-escape of her betrothed. Many, such as the two guards who the _civilian_, no less, had bypassed, had felt anger at being nearly bested by an outsider. Others, such as herself and a few of the older, less hotheaded Branch Members, were impressed.

"Y-yes F-father." Hinata didn't have to look up to see her Father's lip curl.

"Do not stutter, Hinata." Hiashi's voice was stern, harsh. "It is unbecoming, weakness, something the future leader of the clan cannot afford." His voice brooked no argument.

"I shall do my best F-father." Hinata said, struggling hard to keep the frightened stutter out of her voice and barely succeeding.

Hiashi sighed in resignation, causing Hinata to color slightly in shame, before turning his hard voice towards her again.

"Tonight, he is being branded with the seal, he will not be allowed to escape again."

Despite herself, Hinata let out a small gasp, her head jerking up to meet her father's impassive pale eyes.

"D-does he k-know?" Hinata managed to get out, shock causing her mind to blank. Of all the things Father could have done as punishment, he chose the Caged Bird Seal?

"No." Hiashi said curtly, shifting slightly on his cushion as he leaned forward to look into his daughters lavender eyes, noting the confusion that ran rampant there. "He was scheduled for a sealing next month, when he was more settled in, he has only been here for a week, after all." Hiashi sat back. "His attempted escape changed all of that. He will learn that the Hyuuga don't take kindly to having their noses tweaked. He will be sealed as soon as he is physically stable."

"F-father, will the seal even work? He is a foreigner, and a civilian a-as well."

Hiashi nodded, pleased by the intelligent question. "Indeed, would it work? I've had Kataru-sama working on it as the boy sleeps. It seems that sennin (1) have the same amount of physical energy that a civilian would, and the spiritul energies of a Chuunin." Hiashi looked down at the scroll he had been perusing before Hinata had entered, intrigued dispite himself. "The genetic, and sometimes random, imbalance in civilian energy levels is what creates a sennin. At any rate, that should do enough damage to keep the boy from rebelling again."

Hinata bowed her head in acceptance, casting her eyes down again. She felt a hot blush of shame for not sticking up a bit more for her betrothed, but her Father's word was law.

"Get more familiar with him, Hinata, as soon as you graduate the Academy, you will be officially betrothed, as stated in the peace treaty between Britain and Konohagakure, it would do you well to know him better."

Hinata nodded again, familiar with the history behind that particular treaty. The shinobi and the sennin united against the terrorist organization known as the _Kuchini Shouten_, or the Death Eaters, beating back the forces and dealing heavy blows to the opposition. However, not even Hatake Sakumo, the best ninja besides the Sannin and the Yondaime himself, could not defeat the powerful sennin Voldemort. Iwa had gotten involved by taking sides with Voldemort, using it as an excuse to attack Konoha, causing the mainland Kono-Iwa war that cost thousands of shinobi their lives.

Then, Voldemort had been destroyed, annihilated, a feat even the greatest of ninja had failed, by an infant. A dangerous one.

The Yondaime had immediately enacted his counter-plan, binding the young infant to Konoha, ensuring that, hopefully, the powerful warrior wouldn't turn against the village of Konohagakure.

And Hinata was caught in the middle of it.

"He will be picking you up from the Academy as soon as he is healthy enough to do so; I believe he may have lost an eye from his shattered goggles." Hiashi said, almost nonchalantly as he eyes intently watched his daughter for her reaction to the news of her betrotheds disfigurement.

Hinata merely bowed her head, covering whatever emotion (Disgust? Sympathy? Pity?) had crossed her face at the news.

Hiashi suddenly had had enough of his daughter's subservient, cowed attitude, was sick of the subdued way she acted when he insulted her, such as making her wait until she was admitted into his presence. Why couldn't she be like Hanabi? "Dismissed." He barked aggressively, accidentally letting some of his annoyance leak out to mix with his chakra, projecting it onto his already rattled eleven-year-old daughter.

Hinata shivered as she pressed her forehead to the wooden floor and quickly opened, then slide the door shut behind her, letting out a breath of relief as she left the suffocating presence of her Father.

Hiashi sighed and rubbed the shadows underneath his eyes. He would have gone to check on the boy himself, foreigner or no, if Hyuuga tradition allowed him to. Technically, as a Hyuuga, Harry didn't exist. As much as he distrusted foreigners and he absolutely loathed the fact he was _forced_ into accepting the boy into his clan, he would still do his duty to his clansmmen.

When Harry Potter became a Hyuuga (the engagement would put him in a probationary status, enough to get him attached to the clan, only with the marriage when they were sixteen would he be able to participate as a Main Branch member in the clan politics) in little less than two years, he suspected, he would be fully taken into the fold. In fact, he had lied to his daughter, he had been going to brand Harry when she graduated, but the boy had forced his hand.

Hiashi sighed as he rubbed his aching eyes. This incident had probably entrenched hatred against this clan in the boy, which would not do. Potter's bloodline could possibly double the strength of the Byakugan, perhaps eliminate the one blind spot the doujutsu had, or maybe widen the range.

One thing was sure, this boy needed to be educated, and fast.

* * *

The soft beep of a heart monitor was the only indication to Harry that he was alive. He was detached from his body; he only distantly felt the rising of his chest as it filled with oxygen or the cold, stale air of an infirmary as it pressed against his cheek.

Harry felt feeling coming back into his brain and his thought processes starting up again. He remembered…Neji? Hitting him, hitting him in the chest, his heart giving one last thump…blackness…then the dull awareness he had been feeling had seeped into his bones and he had stayed that way, stuck in limbo between sleeping and wakefulness.

Harry felt him slowly ease back into his body, becoming slowly aware of the pressure on his head and the heaviness on his eyelids. His dry parched lips rasped against the air floating past them, a dull ache starting behind his left eye. Light pounded against his closed eyes and he let out a slight moan, forcing his right eye open, for some reason, his other one wouldn't respond.

Blurry white came into view, and Harry nearly moaned again. He needed his glasses, and he was sure they had been smashed to pieces after Neji had taken him apart.

Harry heard the door open and he jumped in surprise, a feeling of dread and helplessness invading the pit of his stomach as he attempted to bring another blurry white figure into focus, a hard feat when surrounded by other blurry white things.

"Who's there?" Harry's voice rasped in his throat, and he erupted into hacking coughs.

"P-please don't overexert yourself, Harry-san." The voice was quiet, gentle and foreign, definitely not any Hyuuga he had met before. Harry felt a cup being pressed against his lips, and he drank greedily, some of the cool liquid escaping down his chin.

"I can't see." Harry murmured, squinting and focusing on the blurry image that he imagined was smiling at his stupid expression. He saw dark, short hair, but the voice was feminine, so perhaps one of the many kids his age, that left before he was allowed out and came in at dusk?

"Father said that he was going to get a new pair of glasses for your eye tomorrow."

Harry nodded, before he caught the singular noun at the end of the mystery girl's phrase. "…Eye?"

He saw the girls blurry outline slump slightly. "Y-your eye, Harry-san, it…"

Harry felt panic rising into his throat as he harshly tried to swallow and speak. "What happened!?"

"When you tried to escape, those goggles that were over your glasses were smashed," the girl neglected to mention that Neji had smashed those selfsame goggles against a tree trunk. "Your glasses were smashed too." The girl seemed to tremble before calming herself, though Harry could hear a slight distraught tremor in her voice. "T-they couldn't get you to the hospital in time, Harry-san, the tissues had been infected by dirt and dust, and they couldn't heal it."

"Could they have healed it otherwise?" Harry's voice broke, and he cleared his throat to avoid drawing attention to it.

"Y-yes, H-harry-san." The girls voice was soft again, calmer. "They send bursts of chakra to your eyes at specific intervals that destroy, then heal the nerves correctly."

"Chak-ra?" Harry's mouth twisted around the strange word, attempting to pronounce it correctly.

"Chakra." The girl said again, and prompted Harry to try again, and after about a dozen tries, he could pronounce the word correctly.

"What is it, exactly?" Harry asked, peering at the blurry form of the girl by his bedside, trying and failing again to make out her face.

"A mix of spiritual energy and physical energy, combined in the stomach, to create chakra which is what shinobi, or ninja, as I think foreigners call them, that allow them to do jutsu."

Harry scratched the back of his head. "Jutsu…?"

He could hear the girl giggle, and knew he had a long afternoon? Morning? Ahead of him.

"What's your name?" Harry asked, cocking his head towards her curiously, slightly ashamed of not asking earlier.

The girl let out another giggle, one that coaxed a small smile out of Harry.

"My name's Hinata, Harry-san."

"H-hinata?"

Hinata giggled and blushed at Harry's gobsmacked expression, resisting the urge to close his mouth which was currently hanging wide open. "Sorry if I s-startled you Harry-san."

"Well, it's not exactly hard." Harry huffed, crossing his arms and looking away. "I mean, I can't see anything right now."

Hinata giggled again, and Harry tentativly added a little chuckle, his prepubescent voice clashing harshly with Hinata's windchime of a laugh.

Harry quickly sobered again, fretfully picking at his coarse blanket.

"So...we're getting married, huh?" Harry seemed conflicted about it, his worry showing clearly through his body expressions, all of which Hinata had been trained to read from birth. "I guess that it doesn't bother you that I don't have an eye, since your here talking to me."

"Not u-until we're sixteen." Hinata said softly, drawing up a chair and plopping herself down onto it, drawing he legs up to her chest.

"How long did you know?" Harry asked softly, still picking out the hem of the blanket, thread by thread.

"E-ever since I was o-old enough to unders-stand what being married meant." Hinata said, avoiding looking at Harry's bandaged figure on the bed.

"That long?" Harry didn't wait for Hinata to answer. "Doesn't it make you angry, having someone else decide for you?"

"M-many people have as-sked me that, Harry-san." Hinata said softly. "D-don't you t-think I would l-like the chance to c-chose for myself, instead of for my clan?" Hinata looked down at the tiled hospital floor. "B-but I don't have the r-respect, or power to make d-decisions, Harry." Harry noticed she left off the -san, whatever that meant. "I cannot even t-talk in another p-person's presence wit-thout s-s-s-stuttering." Harry heard her sigh. "I'm sorry." Hinata was talking about the betrothal, and the Sealing, not that Harry would ever know.

"Yeah, I guess." Harry mumbled, raising an eye to put a hand on a heality bandaged forehead. "Well...what are jutsu again?"

* * *

A/N: (1/31/09): I've ironed out this chapter a bit, and smoothed out some of the glaring inconsistancies and given some reason for the Hyuuga animosity.

Howzat! New chappie!

(1) I did some research and found out that _se_nnin means 'wizard' while _sa_nin means 'three people'

---

Some people ask my why I got rid of Harry's eye. Well, for one thing, it'll play an important part in the future, and furthur deepen Harry's animosity towards Neji, second, I had to kind of...dramatize the whole escape attempt. It also motivates Harry to try to work on his own ninja skills, if only so he isn't totally outclassed again. Harry did always hate being helpless.


	6. Chapter 6: Infection

I was watching G.I Joe: Rise of the Cobra yesterday, and some elements of the story made it into this chapter, some major elements, actually, but no characters or anything.

Well, cheers.

Disclaimer: If I owned this, it would be canon and you would all bow down to me as rightful owner of all of this...

* * *

Harry sighed with frustration as he sat in his pristine infirmary bed, everything blindingly white and clean and _boring_. There was nothing to do but stare at the wall all day or sleep, listening to the annoying beep his heart monitor made day and night. The nurses were curt, silent and professional; none of them were very friendly or talked to him. He may have been quieter than most eleven year olds (his birthday, he supposed, had passed while he had been sedated) but he couldn't stand hospitals, infirmaries, or boredom. Or mean nurses.

Hinata was okay though. Harry smiled a little bit when he thought of her, his cheeks a little red. She was nice, and she explained about ninja and jutsu, and all the confusing terms that he had heard bandied about during his stay. Harry was fascinated by the energy that ninja used to do amazing things, like create dragons out of lightning or walk up trees or on water. Harry regarded them with the same awe one would a superhero, superhuman and able to do all sorts of impossible things. And, deep in his heart, the yearning that he could learn how was born.

Hinata had given Harry her beginner ninja textbook from her first year in the Acadamy (She was finishing up her fifth year out of six) and the pages were well worn from Harry reading through it. Small notations had been penciled in the margins where Harry had written down things that Hinata had told him and tips her Acadamy instructors had given the class that day.

He had managed to successfully push the fact he was supposed to be married to her to the back of his mind. For now, she was just a friend, his first friend, actually. Having Dudley as a cousin wasn't very conclusive to friendship in Primary school.

As much as Harry would have liked to say he liked to learn how to be a shinobi for his own benefit, he knew, deep down, there was a different reason.

Revenge.

It was a word that he had heard used on the telly, a word he coupled with his bully of a cousin, who would beat the living daylights out of anyone who crossed him or made him look foolish. It was a dark seething mass in the pit of his heart that would lash out at the name…

…Neji.

Harry's knuckles tightened on the cover of his ninja textbook, his green eye boring a hole in the white wall. Self consciously he stroked the medical gauze protecting the healing eye socket, stuffed with treated gauze. Just the thought of it…Harry fought down the need to retch. There was something fundamentally wrong with having an empty cavity in his head, something that made Harry want to curl up and hide away from the world.

Neji had taken something from him, and he would never be the same ever again. In his childish, barely eleven year old mind, he vowed to get Neji back, and perhaps take one of his precious 'all-seeing' eyes that Hinata had told him the Hyuuga were so proud of.

Harry was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't notice the nurse, a new one, one he hadn't seen before, walk in. In her hand she held a syringe; its needle, long and sharp, glinted in the florescent light of the hospital room.

"What's that for?" Harry demanded, his senses, honed by a decade with Uncle Vernon, screamed for him to move and to get away.

The nurse did not answer, she just advanced, her face contorted into a distressed, but determined, look.

"Don't touch me!" Harry yelped, scrambling off of the bed, dragging his IV by its pole to the far wall. "Help!"

No one came to help him against the nurse, who even now had maneuvered around the bed and had him trapped in a corner. The nurse pinned him against the wall, his arms crushed against his body and unable to stop the long needle from entering his neck. Harry gasped in pain as the pale yellow fluid was injected. Slowly, numbness spread from the needle, and all of his struggles slowed down, his body unresponsive to his attempts to shove the nurse off of him.

Soon, he was slumped to the floor; the only part of him responsive to his will was his eye, which darted around.

"Wa' u' do'in." Harry's words came out slurred as he tried to get his numbed jaw and tongue to work.

The nurse didn't answer; she merely disconnected the IV and hoisted him back up onto his bed. Restraints, long white belts two inches wide made of tough leather strapped his head, shoulders, waist, and legs down to the bed.

Wheels squeaked as the nurse silently pushed to bed out of the room and into the hallway, straying away from the bright lights of the infirmary and traveling down hallways that seemed to get progressively darker and… colder?

Harry could feel the weight of gravity as he was pushed down an incline, were they going into a basement or something?

Harry tried to open his mouth to talk, but all he did was set his muscle twitching, which was more annoying than the roughness of the straps that rubbed his arms.

Soon, the nurse had wheeled him to level ground, stopping at a rusty iron door.

"Kataru-sama," the nurse tapped on the steel, her knuckles beating out a score of modulated taps and snaps that sounded like the Morse code Harry heard was used in spy shows. "Your patient is ready."

The hurried patter of steps on the other side of the door, presumably Kataru-sama, and the creak of the rusty hinges as the door opened, acknowledging her request.

"Come in, come in." Harry's eye widened as he saw the man, and his panic grew as he tried to fight against the paralyzing agent.

The man was a skeleton in a skin bag, his wrinkles hanging off of him like robes, his bony figures like tapered spiders as he waved the nurse away and pulled Harry into the room. His eyes were vacant and bulbous, a sickly grayish white instead of the pure color of the other Hyuuga. Large, thick lens glasses were on the bridge of his long, hooked nose that seemed to be sniffing the air as he talked. His head, bald and liver-spotted shone in the dull light that emanated from the nasty dripping ceiling.

"Well, well." The man, Kataru, mumbled, bustling around the prone figure of Harry. "A new patient hmmm? Now what does my dear nephew want with you, eh?" Kataru trailed a nail-bitten finger down Harry's gauze, as if he had never touched the cloth before in his life. Then Kataru whisked himself away again, his lab coat whirling behind him. As shaft of good light fell on the white fabric, Harry could see the dark stains, and fear gripped his heart again.

What were they going to do to him?

In the corner of his eye, Harry could make out a soft scratching and cursing, until a small flame lit from the match Kataru had been attempting to light.

'Just a match, Harry' the distraught, traumatized boy thought. 'It's not going to hurt you.'

Then Kataru threw it down, and it caught in a brazier of what looked like oil soaked wood. A huge burst of flame flew up, throwing the room into stark relief. Harry could now see the long metal tables against the grime stained walls. Indescribable, terrible things were stacked in jars on shelves and blood pooled underneath white sheeted forms.

"Hiashi usually makes me do this somewhere else." Kataru said, addressing Harry, a small, deranged little smile on his face. "He thinks that my lab would scare the little branch members." Katauru's eyes narrowed, as if trying to see through his glasses better. "I suppose you made him angry, like the stupid little boy you are."

Kataru wandered over to one of the tables and extracted a long metal rod with a flat sign on one end of it. Kataru stuck the branding iron into the roaring fire, whistling tunelessly as he did so.

"I suppose, you're the one everyone's been whispering about?" Kataru said, mostly to himself. "I can't get any work done with all the whispers." Kataru's face became sharper, angrier. "I can hear them, from everywhere, the whispers."

Harry was breathing heavily, fear curling around his chest. 'H-he's mad. He's completely and utterly mad!'

"Sometimes, they tell me the great things I can do with my knowledge, the great inventions I can make." Kataru gloated, absently turning the branding iron in the brazier. "But sometimes…" Kataru's face seemed to fold in on itself, his face becoming pained. "They tell me how stupid I am, that I can't ever use any of my inventions, that I'm useless."

Kataru's motion became erratic and jerky as he paced the floor, tugging on the bloodstains on his lab coat and murmuring to himself.

"…not useless." Harry managed to make out, the crackpot's murmurs getting progressively harder to hear. "…show them, no one says that to me… prove it."

Kataru whirled on the restrained patient, a crazy glint in his eye. "Yes…"Kataru wheeled Harry further into his lab, through a door that had been on Harry's blindside. "Hiashi knows I'm the only one who can do the seal, he can't kill me, and he can't kill me for helping mankind. He can't kill me when I become a god!" Kataru giggled as set the brakes on the bed, parking it underneath what looked like ten inch needles.

"This will only hurt for a moment," Kataru hiccupped. "What happens after that... more so."

The needles came down and, after a small pause, plunged deep into his skull. Harry tried to scream, but the paralyzing effects of the drugs were still in his system, thus there was no escape from the hot lances that seemed to be filling his face with molten metal.

Deep in his brain, snake venom, supercharged with chakra, was pooling in the recesses of his brain, eating away at the nerve centers that controlled pain and fear. As Harry suddenly became aware that he didn't feel the needles anymore, the venom dripped down to behind his ears, ready to heal, and, upon his death, to decompose his body.

"Perfect!" Kataru cried, his spidery fingers dancing with joy as he forcefully yanked the needles out of Harry's skull, leaving dark red holes. Harry's eye flinched, expecting excruciating pain, only to be surprised when he felt… nothing. It was as if the needles had never been there. He looked at the scientist dispassionately, confused at the lack of fear that he had been feeling for the past half hour he hadn't been able to move.

What was going on?

Kataru, babbling about the success of his experiment, wheeled Harry into the main lab, his face shaking with glee. He was on Cloud 9, even as he pressed the cherry red brand of the Caged Bird seal onto Harry's forehead, the heat activating the seals that caused the end to glow green.

Harry's eyes narrowed as he looked at the hot metal. What…what was happening to him? He could feel the weight of the deranged scientist as he pressed down on the brand but… no pain.

"What is 'appening to me?" Harry managed to get out from his locked jaw, he could smell the rancid stench of burning flesh. His own burning flesh.

"My own special serum, little soldier." Kataru giggled as he unstuck the brand from its position on Harry's forehead, a soft glow of chakra emanating from the seal before it returned to its dormant state. "You will feel no fear." Kataru's hand lit up in a blue chakra glow as he healed the burns and the holes from his experimental procedure. "You will feel no pain."

"No 'ain? Harry gritted his teeth over his words, trying to work his twitching jaw.

"The pathways that send pain to your brain have been…devoured." Kataru giggled again, his nasty fingers flitting from the hem of his filthy shirt to his cheek in excitement. "The only place you can feel pain is…your brain!" Kataru collapsed into helpless laughter, his demented merriment echoing off of the walls, laughing back at his own little rhyme.

"Allow'd?" Harry's muffled question stopped the scientist in his tracks.

"Allowed? No, not allowed." Kataru began to shake like a leaf, fear in his eyes, his rheumy eyes darting upwards. "No, no, don't-no-don't- Hiashi won't let- please, don't, no? A-alright, please?" The docter, still murmuring to no one, turned to the prostate boy and put his hands in one of the seals Harry recognized as the Tora, or Tiger seal for concentrating chakra.

"Y-you won't remember most of this, when you wake up, they says." Kataru mumbled, his excitement gone. "Activate." White hot pain liquefied his brain, and Harry, sedative notwithstanding, arched his back in pain, a scream ripping itself from his throat, travelling through the echoing hallways of the Hyuuga clan, all the way to the ears of Hinata Hyuuga, who buried her head beneath her pillow, and cried.

* * *

R&R people, I need to know if this can be improved upon (which it probably can) and what I should, I don't know, broaden? Kataru will be a milestone for Harry later in life, count on that. Perhaps no more than a few months.

Sayonara,

Timmy


	7. Chapter 7: Realization

This might be a little short but hey, my normal computer is gone and i had to find alternative means, so there!

I hope you enjoy this.

* * *

Harry blinked awake, his fuzzy consciousness processing the light that shone down on his foggy eyes. He wasn't in the infirmary, the garish smell of stinging disenfectant wasn't in the air. Instead, the smell of old wood and cotton pervaded his senses and, as he groped around for his glasses, a soft mattress.

As the scene came into focus, Harry saw that he was in his simple room again, the plain white walls and wooden floors comforting, even if they had been his prison cell. Harry groaned as he sat up, a vague tightness situated around his chest suggested that he was sore, thought he could feel nothing uncomfortable or painful. Shrugging it off, Harry scrambled out of bed and into the small, single bathroom adjacent to his bedroom, flinching as he caught his reflection in the mirror.

His eye bandage was still on, along with another bandage around his forhead, making him look like some sort of lopsided mummy. His skin looked pale and drawn, dark bags that he supposed no ten year old should have (though he would turn eleven in a week) sagged on his face. His green eye was dull and he supposed his black hair, usually so springy, was practically drooping.

Harry tried to avoid looking at the mirror, the image only reminding him of his two week long stay in the hospital and the lack of fresh air that he had basically wilted without. Harry frowned...he remembered something...a basement? Harry touched the bandage covering his forehead. He rememberd the rancid scent of burning and charred flesh and a soft glow of green light...

Oh.

Caged Bird Seal.

Right.

The same awful feeling of pure rage rose up in Harry's gut and he had to struggle not to put his fist into the mirror. They just kept on piling greviances against him and sooner or later-Harry's eyee narrowed- he would pay them back. But now, he was powerless, under their control, and had no friends, no resources. At least with Dudley and his gang, he was faster. Here, even the most untrained shinobi who knew how to use chakra could catch up with him.

He had to even out the status quo, Harry decided as he unravelled the bandage from his eye, breathing as cool air soothed the scars that marred his eye socket. Carefully, Harry extracted the gauze, his breath hitching as the offending material was removed, bloody and moist. He couldn't keep living as a doormat, like he had with the Dursley's. He had to step up and prove to his in-laws that he was not a stupid child to be stepped on and mistreated. Harry grabbed the white eyepatch from the sink, right where the nurse had told him it would be, and slipped it on, smiling a grim smile that he was sure no ten year old had ever smiled before.

The Hyuuga would learn, or Harry would make them.

* * *

The next day, showered, groomed and eyepatch on, Harry met Hinata at the main gates to escort her to the Acadamy and as usual, he seemed to keep making a fool of himself. In fact, Hinata seemed to be doing most of the escorting instead of him. Well, Harry had never even been to London, so of course, having escaped surburbia, he kept gawking at the colorful signs and banners, all written in a language he could not decifer. A babble of foreign tongue overcame his ears, all meshed together in a cocaphony of sound.

"Hinata, what language are they speaking?" Harry asked, feeling like an ignorant little kid.

"J-japanese, Harry-kun." Hinata mumbled, blushing bright red as some strangers bumped into her. "The c-characters on the signs are the symbols o-of the language."

Harry scratched the back of his head and Hinata blushed, struck by the similarity between this black haired boy and Naruto, the boy she had a crush on. She flushed with shame, imagining what her father would say if he knew she had a crush on someone other than the boy she was supposed to marry. She shivered.

"Why do the Hyuuga speak english, then?" Harry asked, shifting his glasses higher on his nose.

"T-the Hyuuga clan has m-many business agreements and b-b-betrothals that take place Outside, like E-england or A-america, Harry-san." Hinata said, trying hard not to stutter. "I-it is common for a H-hyuuga to k-know more than o-one language. I-I, for example, a-am f-fluent in S-spanish, F-french, and the v-various Japanese d-dialects inside the H-hidden Countries."

Harry blinked. Wow, talk about bilingual.

"So...no one else can speak my language?" Harry thougt, his mind racing. If he couldn't talk to people, that seriously cut down on the amount of people he could approach...

"M-most of the shinobi can s-speak E-english." Hinata said, turning onto another busy road, neatly sidestepping a wagon that was barraling down the street, continuing on her way. "At l-least, the older Chuunin and J-jounin can. I t-think the H-hokage has missions there sometimes."

Harry cocked his head, ducking to avoid man with a load of wood on his back. "Hokage?"

"I t-think it translates to 'Fire Shadow' in E-english." Hinata said. "He is the most powerful ninja in the village and is the leader, I-I think the o-only person he reports to i-is the Daimyo, who is like the king of the country." She added, when Harry looked lost again. "He lives i-in the H-hokage tower." Hinata pointed to a tall building, towering over the rest of Konoha. Harry's eyes grew as wide as saucers as he took in the sight. Nothing in Surrey had been that big.

"Here we a-are, Harry-kun." Hinata smiled shyly as they turned off the road into a dirt and grass courtyard, other students older and younger than Hinata standing around talking and laughing together. Harry could pick out a few really bright characters, such as a platinum blonde and a girl with bright pink hair

"This is it?" Harry asked, surprised. Frankly, he'd expected something a bit more...ninja looking.

Hinata giggled at the surprised and disapointed look on his face before taking a look around herself, of course, she was only really looking to get a glimpse of Naruto, but Harry didn't need to know that.

_"Damnit Sasuke! Stop trying to look cool!"_ Hinata felt a shiver go up her spine. She'd know that tradmark bellow anywhere. With terepidition, she turned around, only to be nose to nose with Naruto, who was still looking back at the smirking Uchiha who didn't deign to reply.

"Eep!"

Harry blinked as Hinata catapulted herself behind Harry, using him as a meat shield from the strange japanese yelling boy.

_"Er, sorry Hinata-chan."_ Naruto chuckled, running his hand through his blond hair as he peered around Harry's scrawny middle. _"Didn't see you there."_

Hinata barely managed a small nod before she buried her head in Harry's back, trying to cover her mortification.

"Er...hello?" Harry asked, looking curiously between Hinata and Naruto, all of Naruto's japanese flying right over his head.

Naruto scrunched up his face as he peered at Harry, turning his head this way and that. _"Eng-glish?"_ Naruto managed through his accent, causing a relieved Harry to nod.

"Name Naruto, you?" Naruto spit out, his tongue tripping over the words.

"Harry." Harry said, smiling a little at the big grin that split Naruto's face as he went off into a monologue in Japanese that Harry just sort of nodded to.

"Student?" Naruto asked, his English broken and accented, but understandable (to a degree).

Harry shook his head, gesturing to Hinata, who was peeking out from behind Harry, and miming walking.

Naruto broke out into a grin of understanding and pounding Harry on the back, like he had just won a prize or something. "Good, good you Hari."

Harry smiled weakly, Naruto's exuberance slightly intimidating. _"Make sure you keep him from Sasuke-yarou, Hinata-chan."_ Hinata nearly fainted from the -chan. _"He's been even more of a baka than usual, picking fights with the younger years and scaring them off of the training grounds." _Naruto muttered something about showoffs before bidding them goodbye in a loud ear cracking noise.

"So...you like him?" Harry's sudden question caused Hinata to lose her balance and nearly fall to the grass.

"What?" Hinata was so mortified, she forgot to stutter. "Naruto?"

"So you do like him." It wasn't a question.

Hinata's face burned and she wished she could disapear into the ground. "Harry, I-"

"Cool."

"-doesn't m-mean anything-w-wait, w-what?" Hinata blinked, staring at Harry's face intently, her pale eyes clouded with confusion.

"Listen, Hinata." Harry said, shifting a little, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. "It's not that I don't like you, 'cause I do, just not in _that_ way, if you understand. I mean, you like Naruto right? And I don't know _who_ I like, I mean, I'm ten and am a little socially,uh, retarded I guess. I mean, oh bollocks, um, see-" Harry continued to babble, unaware of the building laugh of the girl in front of him.

"H-harry."

"-I barely know you-"

"H-Harry."

"-and maybe when we got older, but-"

"H-harry!"

"-your really like a sister actually, even only after a month, even if I did have a little crush on you when I first saw you-"

"_Harry!"_

Harry finally stopped, staring at Hinata's short figure with a mix of amazment and apprehension. "Um, yeah?"

"Thank you."

Harry blushed a little, it wasn't often he was thanked for that kind of thing. "Sure, whatever Hinata."

"S-so...what does that m-make us?" Hinata wondered aloud, looking around at the nearly empty courtyard, class would start soon.

"How about friends?" Harry asked, sticking out his hand.

Hinata smiled a shy smile, ducking her head and nodding before shaking Harry's hand.

"You'll be my first friend ever, Hinata." Harry suddely sounded so very young and sad.

"Me too, Harry."

Harry smiled. "Hey, you didn't stutter!"  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Over the next few weeks, Harry began to fall into a pattern and slowly, the thought of pay back slid slowly into the back of his mind. He had, for the sake of his sanity, grown into his own comforting loop. Everyday he would get up, take a bath in the large bathroom that he had used when he first went to see Hiashi, and then report to the dining room. The Branch Members, with the exception of Neji, who Harry would try to maul with his eating utensils whenever he came into sight, were all nice to him, and helped him figure out what he was supposed to do and how he fit into the Hyuuga hierarchy.

Basically, Hiashi was at the top. The Clan Head has personal control over all of the desicions made by the clan, internal and external. Below him, a commune of six Elders advised him and were administers of Clan Law as well as judges in any dispute that came up between members. Underneath them, the Head of the Branch Family, usually a sibling of the Clan Head (though a retired Elder held the post now) served as the personal senschenal of the Main Branch and director of security. Even though those were the official designations, Harry, as told by the Branch Members, knew that the Main Branch was held above all the rest-by the Branch House.

Jun, one of the Branch Members his age (Who also lived with his parents and toddler sister in the room beside his own) had explained the political climate in his quiet voice, enlightening Harry to his own position in the clan.

"There is an unofficial law, Harry-kun," Jun said, blowing his cropped hair off his sweating face as they both hauled buckets of water to the gardens (Plumbing was strictly inside, no outdoor water fixtures). "That the Hyuuga are to keep to themselves, to live within the clan, to marry within the clan, and to die within the clan."

"Thats horrible." Harry muttered, carefully manuvering his buckets around for minimal sloshing and bumping. His depth perception was shot, after all.

"Not really, for the Branch Members at least." Jun said, pouring his water into the small reservoir that the gardeners used to water the plants with. "It's really the Main Branch members who take it too far."

Harry hoisted his empty bucket back up, starting back to the well that they had come from for another gallon of water, Jun at his side. "I suppose the people who have been acting like I'm trash are the Main Branch members?"

"Mhmm." Jun murmured. "Well, some of the Branch Members-"

"Neji." Harry growled.

"-don't like you because you're a foreigner, and others think you'll weaken the gene pool."

Harry blushed a little, before ignoring the comment in favor of dunking his bucket into the well.

"Anyway," Jun continued, following Harry's lead. "Main Branch members are practically taught from birth that they are Kami's gift to-"

"Kami?"

"God, Harry."

"Oh."

"Yes, well, they think the world was made as a stepping stone to Hyuuga greatness. While I think our clan is great, are we the best? The Uchiha were our rivals until they were wiped out by a psychopath, why are we any better?"

"Uh...sure." Harry didn't know who the Uchiha were, so he just went with it.

"To a Main Branch Hyuuga, arrogance and superiority complexes are ingrained in them from birth. To them, a foreigner becoming one of the elite is sickening, so now, when you are politically out of the game, they make it quite clear how they feel. When you turn sixteen and you get married to Hinata-sama, you social status is lifted above there own and so they have to play nice. Do you understand, Harry?" Jun turned his clear eyes to Harry, who was deep in thought, his face contorted into a fierce frown of concentration.

"Why do they antagonize me, though? Wont it be better if they were nice to me _now_, to like, I don't know, score some points with Hinata-chan later?"

Jun laughed, delighted at Harry's understanding of the Hyuuga shortsightedness.

"Wounded pride can cover sensible eyes." Jun said sagely, before laughing again when Harry flicked water onto his cream shirt. "Really, Harry, most of the Elders and higher ranking political players aren't bothering you, only the less wealthier families who don't have very many private funds to spend or any political favor to lose antagonize you."

"So basically the bullies?"

Jun nodded. "Basically."

* * *

Hinata smiled as she waved goodbye to Harry at the gates to the Acadamy, blushing at the hug he had tentatively given her before breaking away and beating a swift retreat. Her face red, she didn't notice the pair of narrowed black eyes that followed her form across the yard.

Sasuke Uchiha frowned from his position hidden in the branches of the large oak tree in the courtyard, hidden from Sakura and Ino.

'That boy,' Sasuke's eyes slitted even more, like a cat preparing to pounce. 'He's foreign.' That ever present spark that had caught when Itachi had slaughtered his family, began to burn. 'Perhaps...a rival?' His rational mind dismissed the civilian as a potential threat to his planned domination of the shinobi talent pool, but his intuition urged him to watch the strange boy.

Sasuke remembered when he had first seen the kid (Harry, he had learned) talking to Naruto in English. He had thought for a second that Harry had been an Uchiha, but that small hope had been crushed by a look at his bright green eyes, as different from onyx black as night was to day. He had carefully watched Harry, noted the eyepatch and the medical gauze wrapped around his forehead and had catalouged it away with the small amount of things he knew about him.

Now, the only thing left was to test him.

* * *

**I just added about 2,000 words, so check it out. Updated 1/31/10**

Anyway, I'm not sure how I'm going to work this HarryHina pairing. Probably, I'll have them have an open marriage, so Hinata can still love Naruto (remember, Harry is, well, Harry, I doubt he'd get too jealous) and maybe work in som canon pairing for both Naruto and Harry Potter characters. I don't know, I just like the idea that maybe Harry and Hinata try to get together for a while and if it doesn't work out, they decide to look into other people, even though they are married. Besides, after Hinata takes control, who's to say they wont just annul the marriage?

Next Chapter: Eleven Years and Counting


	8. Chapter 8: Revelation

When Harry's eyes fluttered open, he knew the day was special.

Today, he was turning eleven.

Grinning, Harry jammed his glasses onto his nose and hopped out of bed, walking with a spring in his step to the empty bath where he appreciated the warm water more than any other morning, toweled off, and attempted to flatten his damp hair.

Whistling, he pulled on a cream shirt and brown pants, padding down the hallway to the large communal dining room. Families fussed over toddlers who refused to eat their rice, old men talked together as they smoked their pipes and spooned down porridge. Older teens, some with shinobi headbands and other without laughed and spoke loudly to each other, sometimes getting into small faux scuffles that ended in high spirits.

"Harry!"

Harry turned to look at Jun motioning to a cushion next to him at the low knee high table, into which Harry sank gratefully. "Thanks mate."

"So," Harry turned to see Jun's mother, Eiko smiling at him from the other side of Jun. "I hear from Jun that today's your birthday. Congratulations Harry."

"Thank you ma'am." Harry blushed. He wasn't used to people actually...caring.

"We all pitched in to get you something." The deep voice of Jun's father, Aoi, sounded from right next to Harry, and Harry turned to see the signature Hyuuga eyes and brown hair and sharp face. The man, about thirty, was smiling as he held Ami, Jun's little sister, who was four.

"We thought you might like to try some of this." Jun slipped a slim box from his pocket and gave it to Harry, smiling shyly.

"What is it?" Harry asked, curious at the undeciferable bright handwriting on the box.

"It's pocky, a kind of candy." Jun explained, smiling at Harry's perplexed face.

"For me?" Harry asked, shocked. He had never recieved any presents before, not from the Dursleys, or even his babysitter Mrs. Figg.

"I-I can't take this, I mean, you bought it, you guys should have it." Harry managed to get out through his tight throat, eyes slightly watering with tears.

"It's your birthday, Harry, you should have it." Eiko was firm as she picked up the box and pressed it into Harry's hands. "Eat it, save it, throw it away, whatever you want."

Just as Harry was about to reply, he caught sight of the clock, and nearly had a seizure. Quickly grabbing a sweet roll from the basket on the table, Harry rushed away, forgetting his present in his rush to get the the front gate.

"What was that all about?" Aoi asked, spooning a mouth of porridge into Ami's giggling mouth.

"He's late to escort Hinata-sama...again."

* * *

Hinata giggled at Harry's red face as he finished the last twenty feet sprint to the gate, gasping as he put his hands on his knees and tried to breathe.

"S-sleep in Harry-kun?"

"Maybe." Harry said, before urging the strength to start walking with her down the streets to the Acadamy.

"You know, this means there's only a year until you become a Hyuuga." Hinata's voice was quiet, but free of stuttering, and Harry knew this was the most serious he had ever heard her.

"Yeah. I'm not going to be Harry Potter, am I?"

Hinata shook her head. "H-here, you are Hyuuga, elseware, you are a P-potter."

"Hmmm." Harry supposed that Konoha and...well, what other ninja villages there were were Hidden, thus the name Hidden Countries. Actually, he might need to know who else lived like Konoha, which, according to his Primary education, didn't exist.

Soon enough, they found themselves at the gates to the Ninja Acadamy, as usual, Harry gave Hinata her bento lunch and her customary hug.

"H-happy Birthday, Harry-kun." Hinata said, holding onto Harry a little longer than usual.

Red-faced for some reason, Harry mumbled his thanks as she let go, a little pink herself.

"How sweet."

The hairs on the back of Harry's neck went up at the arrogant, sneering voice. He turned around to see a dark haired boy eyeing him with a condescending sneer, dark eyes glittering.

"What do you want?" Harry's voice was short, this boy reminded him too much of Neji, and he chomped on Harry's last nerves.

"Fight me." At these words, the Acadamy students who had been watching on the sidelines closed in to create a ring around the two.

"I'm a civilian you moron." At Harry's words, a murmur of anger from the fangirls in the ring rose at Harry's insult, especially by a certain Yamanaka and Haruno.

As the two started to yell obscenities at him, Harry,out of the corner of his mouth, urgently whispered to Hinata.

"Get a teacher, I don't think he'll let me get out of this."

Hinata, almost scared stiff, nodded and allowed herself to be swallowed by the crowd.

"Do you accept?"

Harry looked at him like he was stupid. "No, and generally before one tries to kill the other, you introduce yourself." Everyone could practically hear the unspoken _Duh!_ that followed the statement.

"I am Sasuke Uchiha." Sasuke seemed to think Harry would really care what that name meant, or even know the significance behind it.

"Oh yeah," Harry said, thinking back to his conversations with Jun. "Wasn't your clan a rival of the Hyuuga or something?"

Sasuke growled at the sleight against his Clan. They were more than just a rival against the Hyuuga, they helped create Konoha, they molded Konoha into what it was today-

"They were wiped out by a psychopath, right?" Belatedly, Harry realized this probably wasn't the best way to state that as Sasuke had come rocketing toward him, fist drawn back to deliver a punishing blow to Harry's face.

Harry could feel his jaw fracture as the punch launched into his chin, sending him careening into a wall of packed bodies. The crack of his jaw was loud enough that all of the students to hear it, and they expected him (Since he was a civilian, after all) to hold his jaw and scream like a baby. But, amazingly, Harry stood up, shaking his head to get rid of the mild nasea that had collected in his throat and turned to Sasuke.

"Wa' ta' 'ell was tha' for?" He managed to get aroung his malfunctioning jaw, glaring through dirty glasses at the shinobi.

"Don't talk about my family!" Sasuke managed to get out above the grinding of his jaw.

"'ow was I supposed to 'now that!" Harry demanded. Sasuke ignored him and continued his assault, savagly punching, kicking and kneeing every part of Harry he could get his hands on. However, even after Sasuke had dealt a punishing punch to his solar plexus, Harry hadn't felt anything.

"I didn't even f'el that one!" Harry crowed, elated at this new discovery, even as Sasuke, anger clouding his mind, pulled out a kunai. Harry, all elation gone, ducked two of the slashes as they came within inches of his neck. Then Sasuke was on top of him, knife overhead-

Then he was gone.

Harry blinked, sitting up, ignoring the strange tightening of muscles in his abdomen. Sasuke was fifteen feet away, back against a tree, blood dribbling like saliva out of his mouth. For a second, Harry thought he had killed him, and he started to panic, before he saw Sasuke's eyes flicker open and groan.

"W-what are you?"

Harry looked around to see all of the students staring at him, slowly backing away like he was going to pounce on them and tear them all apart. Beyond them, he could see Hinata and a scarred older man, staring at him.

"Hinata..." She wouldn't meet his eyes.

Tears of rejection watered his eye, and he took a few haltin steps back, before breaking the horrified gazes of his peers and running out of the gate.

* * *

Hiashi frowned as he stared at the piece of parchment paper, tracing the perfect calligraphy and penmanship, weighing the costly parchment with a practiced hand. The Headmaster, Dumbledore, had certainly pulled out all the stops to impress him, even going so far to have the paper printed into his native language.

This eager-to-please attitude is exactly why Hiashi didn't want his son-in-law-to-be to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

He wasn't sure why, but Albus Dumbledore wanted Harry Potter badly, very badly. Badly enough to add another page of explanation to the customary letter that Hogwarts usually gave out, a copy of which his spies had easily obtained from an unobservant muggleborn. Dumbledore had gone out of his way to explain why Harry needed to come to Hogwarts for schooling, and that bothered Hiashi slightly. He knew that Dumbledore had no political power here, and the contract that Dumbledore had signed with a Blood Quill had been enough to tie his hands in this instance. Nonwithstanding, Hiashi trusted the man about as far as he could throw him (which actually was pretty far, but for the sake of the metaphor...).

Hiashi frowned, and reread the part of the letter that bothered him the most.

_...in the Wizarding World, two academic tests are the pivotal turning point in a Wizards life. Much like the Chuunin Exams and Jounin Exams of your country, the OWLs (Ordinary Wizarding Level tests) and NEWTs (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests) are what allow a wizard to operate in the professional world. With these exam results, a young wizard can get a job, an apparition liscence, a traveling visa, an outlet to floo, etc. Homeschooled wizards/witches are unable to take these tests when given by their private tutors/parents for fear of cheating, so government issued examinations are required. Britain (Hogwarts), America (Salem), and France (Beauxbatons) are the only countries that allow students to enroll for only Fifth and Seventh years to take examinations, all other schools/governments require complete enrollment from that point onto graduation..._

For Harry to be able to move around without any questions raised in the wizarding world, he needed those tests. But, by his calculation, he would only take them when he was 15 and 17. Hiashi rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. He could just send the boy to Hogwarts and be done with it, but he was wary of letting the boy go so quickly and releasing his hold on him so quickly. The Caged Bird Seal would take too much chakra to activate so far away, and he was equally more wary of what Dumbledore could do to his seal.

The article mentioned something about tutors, however...

Hiashi's mind sprang like a trap. He had it! Hiashi penned a letter to Dumbledore, smirking the whole while. He believed he had just outmanuevered the chess master in this instance.

* * *

Harry shifted uncomfortably as the nurse set a green glowing hand to the vicious bruises on his bare chest, flinching as her cold hands touched the split and broken skin.

"Did that hurt?" the nurse asked, taking her hands off of the spot.

Harry shooke his head, before replying with his repaired jaw. "None of it hurts, just cold."

The familiar white of the infirmary made Harry squirm from his spot on the uncomfortable bed. He hated being in this room.

The door in the corner opened a crack, causing the nurse to jump in surprise. "I'm with a patient!" she called, turning back to her ministrations.

"Hiashi-sama wants to see him." Harry looked on curiously as the nurse colored at the sound of the guards voice.

"Tell him he can wait!" she called back, smiling now as she healed another of Harry's bruises.

"Come on Hanako, you know I can't do that!" The guard stuck his head into the infirmary room. "Bring him back here after Hiashi's done with him." The guard smiled kindly at Harry, attempting to allieviate Harry's sudden fear. "He seemed happy boy, I think you're okay."

"Stop teasing him Arata," Hanako rolled her eyes. "Just go, Harry-san, and come right back after you're done."

Harry nodded, even though he was going to do no such thing, and hopped off of the bed, grabbing his shirt, and quickly sped out of the door. Arata grinned at Hanako before following his young charge, rolling his eyes at the young boy's antics.

* * *

Harry took a few deep, calming breaths before entering Hiashi's study. Inside, Hiashi was sitting across from another man who had his back to the door, obscuring his face. Harry carefully took his seat, kneeling in the center of the mats covering the floor before saying carefully, filling his voice with the emptiness he felt when he should have been afraid.

"Hiashi-sama, you called for me?"

Harry centered himself, keeping his breathing in...and out. He wasn't scared, strangely, but he felt calm. Now he just had to maintain his calm, and everything would be alright. In...out.

"I have head some interesting things from the parents of the Acadamy students, Potter-san." Hiashi's voice was cool and light, no inclinations of anger yet, good. "Would you care to explain them to my guest here?"

Harry found himself explaining the morning to the mans back, as he still hadn't turned around. When he had gotten to the point where he had somehow launched Sasuke into a tree, he thought he heard the man murmur 'banishing charm' to Hiashi, but he had shaken it off and finished his story where he had been summoned from the infirmary.

"Well, I suppose that gets rid of the only problem I had with the arrangement." The man said lightly, but Harry could sense and edge of futility in his tone. The man turned, and Harry found himself looking at someone who was definitly not a Hyuuga.

The man had whispy white-blond hair, that stuck up all over the place, much like Harry's own, like a pile of feathers that was dumped on his head. He was tanned, with deep lines etched in his face like a master artisan on clay. His eyes were sunken, but shone a bright teal.

"My name, is Hiraiga Sadao, and I am your tutor."

Harry blinked. "My tutor in what?" He was no shinobi, he had already tried those chakra gathering exercises that Hinata had showed him, and he hadn't even been able to feel his 'center' or any of his chakra pathways.

"You, Mr. Potter, are a wizard."

* * *

Alright, the cats out of the bag and Harry now knows he's a wizard. Next chapter, Hiraiga-sensei is going to tell Harry how magic is different than chakra and how he can mimic certain shinobi techniques. Should be fun.

Reread, Review, Recycle


	9. Chapter 9: Education

The sun was barely setting on the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, illuminating the sentinel office of the current Headmaster. The old man, his blue eyes aged, but bright, stared at the small red scroll on his desk, his mouth creased into a frustrated line

In short, Albus Dumbledore was having a bad day, and it was all Hiashi Hyuuga's fault.

As planned, he had sent Harry Potter's letter a week before his birthday, with no real expectations that it would be denied. After all, what magical child _didn't_ want to learn magic? Unless they were raised as a witness of the power of the shinobi, that is.

In fact, that was why he had quietly set Harry at the Dursley's, so that he could stay out of the Hyuuga's power. It had only been chance that the ANBU had been able to find him at all. Dumbledore had been surprised at _that _news, but in the end, he decided it wouldn't matter. Harry would only been at the Hyuuga complex for less than two months before he would come to Hogwarts and begin his magical education.

But this scroll…this certainly put a stop on those plans.

Albus had to give Hiashi credit, he had covered all his bases. He had assigned Harry the premier tutor for the magical arts in the eastern hemisphere, a man well known for his revolutionary theories on magic, if a little backwards. Dumbledore couldn't exactly claim the tutor was inadequate; he was a genius in the field of Alternate Mediums, no matter much Dumbledore detested non-European wizards.

The only time Harry was coming to Hogwarts was when he was going to taking his OWL and NEWTS classes, in his Fifth and Seventh year.

Dumbledore frowned, that severely limited the influence he would have over the next Chosen One. When Voldemort eventually returned, in a day, in a year, in fifty years, Harry would need to be ready. The man wouldn't teach the boy right; he needed competition and classmates, not an ass-kissing tutor ready to cater to his every whim.

If only he knew...

* * *

Harry was beginning to hate his new Sensei with an almost psychotic passion.

Sensei only had one rule.

Sensei is God

During their first lesson, Harry had begun to learn the meaning of that phrase very well. Instead of the childish visions of conjuring rabbits and waving a wand around, Sensei had rather violently and suddenly shoved those ideas into a wood chipper.

Instead, he got a grueling six hour workout, wallowing through mud, pushups, and jumping jacks enough that his legs wouldn't support his weight. When he began to lag, Sensei would throw small needles at his joints, the jolt (but not pain, curiously enough) of the needles entering his arm and clanging against his bone was enough to keep him going. At the end, his hands were shaking uncontrollably from muscle spasms and his eye kept seeing double from blood loss.

It was the same the next day, and the next day and the next and the next until Harry could barely function. It seemed his tutor could sense this, because just when he could barely put one foot in front of the other, he found Sensei sitting calmly on the grassy Hyuuga training grounds eyes closed, breathing quietly.

Confused (Sensei was usually telling him to do a hundred and fifty crunches by now), Harry followed his lead, sitting down cross-legged in front of the older man. Sensei didn't move a muscle.

Bored, Harry scrutinized his Sensei taking in the seemingly harmless man with a weathered face and teal eyes, scowling. Hiraiga-sensei was a bastard.

Harry huffed in slight annoyance, blowing his black hair that had grown into his eyes out of his face. If Sensei wasn't going to torture him today, why couldn't he stay in his room?

"Baka-deshi…" (1)

Harry started at the low grumbling voice of his Sensei, fixing the older man with surprised stare. Sensei grunted as he stretched out his legs, his knees creaking as he settled back onto the ground, legs outstretched.

"As I said before, you are a wizard."Sensei closed his eyes, leaning back as to let the sun shine on his face. "A human born with a large amount of spiritual power, far more than any civilian could hope to attain. In fact, most Kage don't have the same amount of Spiritual power we have, and despite that advantage, it also severely weakens us."

Hiraiga-sensei sighed as he took in the confused expression on Harry's face.

"You do know how shinobi perform jutsu, correct?"

Harry nodded. "They mix spiritual and physical energy to create chakra, which they mold, using hand-seals into jutsu."

Hiraiga-sensei nodded. "For magical folk, it's different. No matter how much you train, your physical power will never match your spiritual power, your spiritual power merely increases until it is a fixed amount above your physical power."

Harry stared as his sensei, a blank expression on his face, before comprehension dawned.

"So… say I had five units of physical power, I would always be six units of spiritual power above that, no matter how in shape I was?

"If you were explaining that to an idiot, yes, I suppose that's right."

Harry scowled at his benevolently smiling teacher, cursing the man under his breath.

"Now, that good thing is," Hiraiga-sensei continued. "We can accomplish some jutsu, simple ones, yes, but some. Only three jutsu are available to us Wizards; kawarimi, shunshin, and henge."

Harry blinked. "Why not Bunshin no Jutsu?"

Hiraiga-sensei smirked at his student. "Magic can only be conducted outside the body through a medium, otherwise, it just dissipates into the air. Inside the body, however, you _are _a medium. Thus, basic techniques that effect your body, such as shunshin that heightens your bodies speed to the point of the illusion of disappearing in a puff of smoke, is all done inside your body. Bunshin requires energy to be formed outside the body, is impossible for Magic-users."

Harry frowned, disappointment crashing down on his head. His dreams of teaching the Hyuuga a lesson seemed to be falling apart. "Then what's the use of being a magic user I you're useless-"

Harry sputtered as a high powered stream of water propelled itself into his gut, sending him flying head over heels. Gasping for air, Harry struggled to look at his sensei, who had what looked like a long, thin blade clutched in his hand, poised like a baton. A drop of water dripped off of the tip, splatting onto the dirt.

"Keep your tongue in your mouth, boy, if you're going to make stupid comments." Hiraiga-sensei said loftily, tucking a stiletto back into his sash.

"H-how-how did you-?" Harry sputtered, spitting water out of his mouth as he did so. "I thought wizards couldn't do jutsu!"

Hiraiga-sensei rolled his eyes at Harry's naivete. "That's because it wasn't a jutsu, boy."

"But you said-"

"I said Jutsu. Do you think there would be so many legends about sorcerers and shamans floating around if we could only complete three pathetic little jutsu?" Hiraiga snorted.

Harry flushed and ducked his head, muttering under his breath.

"Before I even begin to think of teaching you any real magic, I'm going to teach you how to manipulate the magic in your body, so sit up and take notes boy."

* * *

_The Principle of Chakra and Magic: Advanced Theory by Hiraiga Sadao,_

_The defining difference of chakra and magic, is on the most basic level that has been discovered by wizard or shinobi kind. The higher influx of physical energy in chakra makes it more malleable, like putty in the hands of a capable shinobi. However, the perfect mix of chakra must be reached for this, or the chakra will turn out too 'solid' or 'runny' for proper molding._

_This 'solid' chakra is much too hard for even a Jounin to economically mold and wastes chakra when the jutsu is released. 'Runny' chakra, we while easier to mold, will not hold it's shape when the shinobi in question tries to activate the technique through the final handseal. _

_Wizard/Witches have this 'runny' problem when trying to mold chakra through handsigns. The handseals had to be performed at such extreme speeds to keep the magic from breaking out of form that it was impossible magic-user to use jutsu. This saturation of spiritual power is also what prevents any jutsu from being released from the body, or the magic would break down and disipates._

_In the late 1800's, this problem was solved by the Theory of Malleability. Created by Josef Usev, this Russian wizard created a way to continually 'herd' the energy in a wizards core through small bursts of magic, driving it into the patterns needed for the three Acadamy Jutsu, emulating those caused by handseals. Ironically, Usev died from a heart attack after creating too strong of a burst that stopped his heart when he attempted higher rank jutsu..._

_

* * *

_

Took me long enough, didn't it?

Anyway, the italisized paragraphs are important, they are the theory behind the difference between shinobi and wizards...so read it!

1. Translated to 'idiot student'

~Tim


	10. Chapter 10: Adoption

Dear Readers,

I'm sorry to tell you that _The Blackest Ink _will no longer be continued. I've completely lost all interest in the plot and have no idea where I was going with it. Sorry. I'm not adverse to someone adopting the fic and I would be happy to beta for the author that chooses to take on this project. There are only a few things I'd like you to consider before adopting this fic

1) I'm fine with you completely revamping the story- ripping it down and starting from scratch doesn't bother me, neither does adding or taking away parts of my story. However, I'd prefer if the piece mostly took place in the Naruto world rather than primarily in the Harry Potter world, which most NarutoxHarryPotter crossovers do. Make it semi-original, savvy?

2) Credit me with the idea, 'kay? I might have given up on this story but that doesn't mean I'm not territorial with my ideas. I'm giving it to you- respect that.

3) Have fun, alright? Go crazy.

Ciao,

Timballisto


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